Chapter 19 (post one)

Pre-note: This chapter was written a long time ago and just changed, so Gremikin, you may have already read pieces of it. However, it gives Jake's background story.

PLEASE NOTE: That I have not put the effort and research into Jake's background yet, so his story is not based on solid facts. Thanks.

Chapter nineteen, section one:

“What about this question: how old are you, Jake?”

We were sitting on the beach again, although the day was cloudy with a cool breeze.

“Eighteen.”

“No, I mean, how old are you?”

“I died in 1945.”

“That’s all I get?” I crossed my legs on the blanket, brushing sand off my knees.

“Are you asking for my life story?” Jake laughed a little, trying to lighten the mood.

“Come on,” I said, “Please?”

He repositioned himself on the blanket, crossing his legs like mine. He looked at me, the smile gone and his face set in his serious look. “I remember how I died only because I am a Guider. That is a burden that we have to carry. But since you remember, despite the fact you’re not supposed to, I will tell you my story.”

 Looking at the patterns of the fabric by his feet, Jake started, “I was born on June 29^th, 1927. I lived in Holland, in the same small village from the day I was born to the day I died. I grew up during the Great Depression, and even though everyone helped each other out, we didn’t have much. The Second World War started when I was thirteen. It was terrifying, because we lived not too far from the German border and they invaded us quickly. Each day we lived in a town patrolled by Nazis. I was the oldest of four children; I had three sisters --”

 “How old were they,” I cut him off suddenly, “When you..?”

“Fifteen, twelve and nine.”

Pictures of Noel and Izzie filled my mind for a second, then he pulled me back from my thoughts into a war torn Europe. 

“The Nazis treated us horribly, even the girls. My mother was a nurse who was forced to work at our hospital treating Nazi soldiers. My mother used to be a really talkative, kind person, but after each day of work she’d come home not speaking a word.” He paused for a second, watching the waves lick the shore, and then continued, “Anyways, in 1945, the allies made progress. Our town secretly received the news that they were pushing the Germans back towards their border. My family, especially my parents, were so relieved. They thought we were going to survive the war. But, in September, the Germans began to panic. On the 25^th of September, 1945, they decided our village wasn’t worth keeping. We hid in our cellar from the troops, the screams and the gunshots outside, but they found us anyways. My whole family was forced to stand in a line outside the little house we’d lived in all our lives. We were shot one by one: my sisters, my mom, me and then my father.”

Jake paused here. I didn’t know if he was going to say more. He seemed to be back in Holland surrounded by German troops.

Silence fell. I pulled my knees up into my arms and dug my toes in the sand.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, trying to catch his eye, but he was watching my feet being covered in sand. I think he tried to say something back, but was lost for words. His face was blank and distant.

I laid my forehead on my knees, pulling myself into a ball. My thoughts were a jumble of distant memories from my childhood and pictures of a family lined up in front of a cottage, awaiting their death.  

The tears came without warning. They soaked my navy dress with little black dots.

I cried silently, so Jake couldn’t hear, but didn’t try to stop them.

The splashing of the waves was the only indicator of time passing. The wind blew my hair into knots and the sand to dance around my ankles.  Eventually someone put their hand on my back.

I jumped, startling Jake, who pulled his hand away quickly. My dress was soaked, my face was a mess, my nose was running and my hair was everywhere. I tried unsuccessfully to wipe my face with my hands, but only managed to cover myself in little bits of sand.

The tears, which had stopped momentarily, returned with a steady beat. I watched them drop onto my dress, one by one.

I saw Jake from the corner of my eye as he reached over and ran his fingers along my cheek, catching my tears. His hand lingered at my chin, and then gently lifted my face up.

He’d moved right beside me, his thigh almost touching mine, and our faces were only inches apart.  My tears finally stopped, but my eyes never left his.

The next thing I knew, his hand was back under my chin as his lips brushed mine. Without thinking, I leaned towards him ever so slightly, and we kissed.